


what resembles the grave

by horrorterroronesie



Category: Dr Carmilla (Musician), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, weird format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24260701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horrorterroronesie/pseuds/horrorterroronesie
Summary: Question:Does she twist everything she touches?
Comments: 7
Kudos: 17





	what resembles the grave

Question:

Does she twist everything she touches?

Answer:

No.

Not exactly.

Perhaps she tells herself as much, sometimes. If it’s correct, nobody knows. Time twists all things, and when put into perspective she has  _ so much _ of it. So it’s no surprise.

Stories do the same. Time is a function of narrative, she says, and you don’t know what she means yet. Time and tales follow in her wake and leave nothing behind.

  
  


Question:

Is she alone?

Answer:

Always, and rarely.

It’s not preferable to be alone. There’s only one of her _ (currently, hopefully) _ and she got on her own nerves within the first hundred years. You can only imagine how much worse it got.

Others always come, and she always appreciates them while they last. Some lasted longer than others, of course, some lasted far too long and twisted themselves into the same wretched loops as she had.

  
  


Question:

Did she mean to hurt them?

Answer:

Maybe. Some. 

Some had been experiments and some had been hopes left shattered and bleeding, a testament to her hubris as much as her loneliness. She says she can’t remember which had been which.

Of course time would break them like it had broken her.

Who was she to expect any different?

  
  


Question:

Why not go back?

Answer:

Because there was nothing new waiting for her. 

  
  
  


Question:

Are you going to kill me?

Answer:

Yes.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from 'what resembles the grave but isn't' by anne boyer. find me on tumblr at cyberiandemons, perhaps to ask me what this was supposed to be (i have no idea either)


End file.
